From the Omaha Daily Bee, September 22, 1912.
By A. W. Peach.
 

 With hammers ringing on the lofty frame
   The unknown millions toil within the din,
 And seek no end of leisure or of fame,
   But simple happiness they hope to win.
 
 The great dome mounts to meet the watching stars
   Wide as the spinning earth from zone to zone
 And far upon the upper beams and bars
   The dreamers and truth seekers work alone.
 
 They toil with faith in One who yet above
   Has planned the structure’s ever rising height
 With wisdom more than man’s and deeper love,
   With hope that they are mounting to His sight.
 
 Through centuries the ceaseless hammers ring;
   Though once they paused when stilled by hate and strife,
 Now evermore the workmen toil and sing,
   And stroke by stroke is wrought the temple life.